I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

The next day, in the office of the director of the Revolutionary Committee of the steel rolling mill.

Li Jing'an sat behind his desk and called Qin Huairu over. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "Someone might come to ask you about the situation in the next couple of days. Just do as I told you a couple of days ago, don't let anything slip."

Qin Huairu stood in front of the table, glanced at him, and said crisply, "Don't worry, Lou Xiao'e gave me the things. She says the same thing to everyone."

She spoke frankly, without a trace of hesitation on her face.

Li Jing'an nodded in satisfaction, patted her shoulder, and smiled slightly—what a smart woman.

Qin Huairu came out of the office and walked down the corridor, her smile gradually fading.

She had ulterior motives.

Two days ago, the night she heard from Li Jing'an that Lou Xiao'e's whole family had run away, she tossed and turned in bed, unable to contain her joy.

Ever since Sha Zhu and Lou Xiao'e got together, she had never felt at ease, always feeling like something of hers had been forcibly taken away. Now, Lou Xiao'e had run away, and not just any runaway, but a defector, the kind who wouldn't be coming back. This completely extinguished Sha Zhu's hopes.

So when Li Jing'an came to her for help a couple of days ago, she agreed without hesitation.

She had thought it through. Could Li Jing'an be trusted? No. He was now a director, his office had moved to the factory area, while she was still making beds and blankets at the guesthouse—they had absolutely nothing in common. He would only remember her when he needed her, but what about after that? She would still be just an ordinary waitress, never even mentioned as a shift leader.

She gripped the hem of her clothes and took a deep breath.

She's not young anymore, and she understands that she can't get on Li Jing'an's ship, nor does she intend to. But she's a woman, and she needs someone to rely on, right? That person can only be Sha Zhu.

She quickened her pace and walked away without looking back.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In the steel rolling mill canteen, several workers sat around their food bowls, their faces scrunched up in frustration.

"Pfft—" A young worker had just taken a bite of the cornbread when he spat it out. "How can this taste so awful!"

"Exactly!" The person next to him poked at the food in his bowl with his chopsticks, his brow furrowed. "Even if it's supposed to be a 'bitter memory' meal, it still has to be edible!"

The young worker slammed his chopsticks on the table in anger: "This is inedible! Let's go find them!"

"Hey!" The older man quickly grabbed his sleeve and whispered, "Who are you looking for? Do you even think you can find them? Don't you even know what time it is? What kind of food is this?!"

"But you still need to be able to eat! We paid for our meals!"

"Shut up!" The man glanced around quickly, lowering his voice even further. "It's not like you eat this every day. Don't give anyone something to use against you."

The young worker gritted his teeth, picked up the cornbread again, took a bite, his face turned red, his cheeks puffed out for a long time, but he still couldn't swallow it.

In the kitchen, Ma Hua excitedly approached Sha Zhu, his eyes practically sparkling: "Master, Master! What's the secret recipe for today's 'bitter memories meal'? How come it tastes so bitter and awful?"

Sha Zhu was kneading dough with his head down, not even lifting his head, his hands never stopping.

Undeterred, Ma Hua leaned closer, almost touching Sha Zhu's arm: "Really, Master, please tell me! I overheard the workers outside today, they were cursing so loudly—you have no idea, your cooking is amazing! It's not surprising that most people can cook well, but to cook something this bad, let me tell you, in the entire steel mill, plus all the restaurants I know, no one can compare to what you did today!"

Sha Zhu finally stopped what he was doing, raised his eyelids to look at him, and expressionlessly uttered two words: "Get lost."

Ma Hua was stunned, his excitement freezing on his face: "Master—"

"Go do what you're supposed to do." Silly Zhu waved his hand impatiently, shooing the MCA away like flies.

A secret recipe? What secret recipe?

Sha Zhu turned his face away, picked up a cornbread he had made himself from the cutting board, stared at it for two seconds, and took a big bite. He chewed twice, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed it with difficulty.

Is it unpalatable? Is it bitter?

He looked down at the half-eaten cornbread in his hand, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, an expression that was hard to decipher as either a smile or something else. He took another bite in frustration, his cheeks taut and his teeth grinding together—I've only managed to express half of the bitterness in my heart.

These past few days he hasn't been able to sleep or concentrate on his work. Ever since Lou Xiao'e left that day and never came back, he's been like a lost soul. He forgets to add alkali when kneading dough and forgets to add salt when stir-frying vegetables. Ma Hua watches him in a daze, not daring to ask.

He even went to her parents' house once, but the door was locked, the windows were dark, and the neighbors said they had moved out long ago. He stood there at the door for a while, feeling the wind blowing into his collar and making him feel cold, before finally turning around and leaving without saying a word.

He was completely heartbroken.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it, hadn't hoped for it. But this time was different. This time, it was truly the moment to get the marriage certificate, they were practically there, and then it was all over. He couldn't understand it, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. He just felt like, was he even unworthy of marriage? Was he destined to be alone for the rest of his life?

He took another bite of the cornbread, chewing it with a crunching sound.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Su Liting stood in front of the dressing table, applying face cream in front of the mirror while glancing into the living room. She scolded him with exasperation, "Don't you have any ambition? Any drive?"

In the living room, Engineer Wang sat on the sofa with his head down, not saying a word.

"Director Li specifically recommended you to be the head of the technical department, and you still refused! What time is it now? We're about to merge and form four major groups, and all the departments will be merged into them. If you had agreed, I could have put in a few words with Director Li, and we would have secured that group, right? But you, you're so arrogant!"

Wang Gong still didn't respond, and his shoulders shrugged slightly.

Su Liting came out of the bedroom and saw his pathetic appearance. She snorted, "What a coward."

"Liting..." Engineer Wang finally raised his head, forcing a cautious smile, "Isn't it good that our family doesn't hold official positions? Let's settle down for now."

"What?" Su Liting's voice suddenly became shrill. "What did you say? You don't cherish the opportunity to climb the ladder. Tell me how much effort I put into you? Seeing your technical department head get knocked down, I went to great lengths to talk to Brother Li and have you fill the vacancy, but you refused to do this or that—tell me how I ended up marrying you? I must have been blind!"

She grew angrier and angrier, her finger almost poking Wang's face: "If you really had any backbone, fine! When the technicians from your technical department were sent down to the workshop to move steel ingots, why didn't you show any backbone then? Why didn't you say you wouldn't stay in the technical department either, and that you would go down and move steel ingots too? Did you say that? Where did your backbone go then?"

Wang Gong's lips moved, but he ultimately didn't say anything.